The Real Draco Malfoy
by When-Words-Fail
Summary: When Harry returns to Hogwarts to repeat his seventh year, things don't go exactly as he thought they would.


"Harry, I love you!" Harry heard a girl shriek. Oh, Merlin help him.

"Take me Harry!" Who knew going back to Hogwarts to repeat his seventh year would be so disturbing? And he wasn't even _at_ Hogwarts yet!

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" He gagged at that one.

"Are you from Tennessee? Cause' you're the only ten I see!"

"Will you be my Valentine?" It was _September_!

"Marry me!"

"Can I take a ride on your broom stick?" Harry had a look of pure horror on his face at that comment.

"I'd kill for you, Harry!" Harry had had enough. He ran. He ran down the carpeted hall of the Hogwarts express and kept running until he couldn't hear the group of girl's screeching. He ran all the way down to the very last compartment, opened the door, and stumbled in. What awaited him was not expected. Draco Malfoy sat in the seat, his back against the window, his long legs stretched out along the seat, a book in his hands. His expression was one of surprise and confusion. What Harry found weird was that Malfoy didn't say anything. He just looked at Harry for a moment, then his eyes went back to his book, probably expecting Harry to leave without comment. Harry, however, just stood there awkwardly. He hadn't seen Malfoy since his trial, when Harry had spoken on the blonde's behalf. Other than that, Malfoy's whereabouts had been a mystery, but Harry hadn't thought about it much.

Harry Potter had had many problems since the war ended.

He had thought that with Voldemort gone, everything would be as perfect s he had hoped it would be, that he would finally live the life he wanted without the threat of a dark lord looming over him like a storm cloud. But that didn't happen. After the war, he and Ginny had gotten together as expected, but things went bad quickly, and they ended up breaking up after a month.

Ever since Ron and Hermione's realization that they were in love with each other, they had been spending every given moment together. Hermione had been staying at the Burrow with him and the Weasleys. She had told Harry and Ron about how she Obliviated her parents in order to keep them safe, and the Weasleys happily took her in. Things were still tense with Ginny because of their break-up, and with Ron and Hermione being all lovey-duvey with each other, Harry felt alone, like nobody understood him. Like nobody cared. Everybody he met wanted to know him only for his fame. The auror department had owled him numerous times, asking him if he had thought about a career choice. Harry hadn't replied, but they kept coming, over and over and over again until finally Harry had responded and said that he had had his fair share of battling dark wizards and didn't think that being an auror was what he wanted to do.

Ron had not been happy with his decision. He had been furious, in fact. Ron said that him and Harry had been planing on working as aurors together for so long and now he was just going to give it up? Well, that's exactly what Harry planned to do and he told Ron that, which probably had not been the best choice. Now Ron wasn't talking to him, and since Hermione agrees with everything Ron says nowadays, she wasn't talking to him either. So things were pretty tense at the Burrow, for the time being. Harry assumed that Ron would come to his senses eventually.

And there is the small fact that Harry had finally come to terms with his sexuality. After months of slaving over the topic, he had finally realized that he was one hundred percent gay. He hadn't told his friends yet, if you could still call them that. So he was basically on his own. That's why when he stumbled in on Draco Malfoy, the sun's light hitting his blonde hair at just the right angle, making it gleam, that he found himself asking,

"Can I sit in here?" The blonde looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow at his question. His silver-gray eyes locked with Harry's own emerald green, and the raven haired boy found himself surprised at what he saw there. Pain, confusion, sadness, despair, bewilderment; nothing like the blank Malfoy facade that he used to have. Harry felt a wave of sadness and compassion wash over him. Malfoy was just as alone as he was. Malfoy nodded his head once, just once, and then went back to his book. Harry sat down in the seat across from him. He couldn't help but admire how much the other boy had grown since the war. He had gained some weight, just a little, but still noticeable. His pale hair had grown out a bit more, his bangs coming to an end just above his eyes.

He would reach up every once in a while to brush his hair out of his face, and Harry had to suppress the urge to reach over and touch the blonde strands to see if they were as soft as they looked. His face was relaxed as he read, making his pointed features look more like smooth angles instead of sharp lines that reflected his troubles. Malfoy was wearing a black turtle-neck and trousers that made his pale skin look even paler than it usually was. Harry couldn't help but think that the boy he had once knew was gone and had been replaced with this man sitting across from him, silently reading a book.

Silent wasn't one of the words you would use to describe the old Malfoy. The old Malfoy would have jumped for joy at the chance to insult Harry. He would have made sharp remarks about Harry as soon as the Gryffindor had stumbled into the compartment. But this Malfoy was different. Harry had barley said five words to the Slytherin and he knew that the other wizard had changed drastically. The war had changed everybody, some more than others.

Draco Malfoy was becoming less like Malfoy and more like Draco.

Harry knew how to act around Malfoy, but he had no clue how to approach Draco. He honestly thought it wasn't fair for Malfoy to go and change his demeanor all of a sudden. Harry didn't know what to say. Maybe he should ask about the weather? Yeah, because everybody loves the weather. No, don't ask about the weather. He couldn't think of anything else to say that might lead into a conversation that wasn't too personal. Harry looked at the blonde again. Said blonde was so quiet, Harry had _never_ heard him _this_ quiet before. It was kind of disturbing, how much a person could change just by being more silent than usual. _Think, Harry, think. What's a good conversation topic?_ This would be easier if Malfoy would just talk to him instead of reading that bloody book. Oh. That's a good topic.

"What are you reading?" Harry asked, a bit awkwardly. You can't blame him, really, he and Malfoy had never had a decent conversation without insults being exchanged at least once. Malfoy jumped a little and looked up. He had probably forgotten that Harry was there. He put his thumb on the page of the book to hold his place, then he closed the book over his thumb and showed Harry the title. It read _The Secret Garden_. Harry was surprised, to say the least. "Isn't that by a muggle author?" Harry inquired. Malfoy nodded. "Huh." Harry said, and then, "Is it good?" Two tilts of his head was all Harry got in response. _Damn it, Malfoy. Say something. _There was a pause. "What's it about?" The blonde arched an eyebrow, an amused look in his eyes. "What?" The raven haired boy questioned. Malfoy smiled a small smile and looked back down at his book. "What do you find so funny, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, his voice suggested laughter though he was trying not to sound amused. Harry was not willing to let the almost-conversation go. Malfoy looked up again.

"Your attempt at small talk is quite amusing." He said quietly, his tone matching Harry's own laughing one.

"I will try to work on that then." Harry said, smiling. There was that silence again. Then Malfoy spoke.

"Why are you sitting in here?" He asked in that same quiet voice.

"Girls." Harry answered, shivering slightly at the memory of what had happened only minutes before. Malfoy slowly nodded his head. "You don't understand why I'm hiding from girls, do you?" Malfoy's nod turned into a shake. Harry laughed and Malfoy smiled that same small smile again. "Girls aren't very fun when they gang up on you, corner you, and confess their undying love for you with the cheesiest pick-up lines ever created." Malfoy let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. _Good, I made him laugh. Now I need to make him smile a real smile. _Harry thought to himself. He didn't know when he decided that he wanted to make the blonde smile, but he did want to get some kind of reaction out of the other boy, and he'd much rather it be a good one. "You didn't answer my question." He said. Malfoy sighed, picked up a book mark Harry hadn't noticed the blonde had, placed it in the book and closed the book. He moved his legs off of the seat and placed his feet on the floor. He was now sat across from Harry, their knees almost touching in the small compartment.

"It's about a secret garden, Potter, isn't that obvious?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not all there is to it, right? There's always more than meets the eye." Malfoy looked at Harry, and Harry looked right back. Malfoy looked suspicious, like he thought Harry might be doing something bad. Harry wasn't _trying_ to do something bad. He might still be, though, he could never tell if he was doing the right thing around Malfoy.

"Train's about to stop." Was all that Malfoy said before standing and walking out of the compartment without another word. Weird.

"Weird." Harry muttered to himself after the blonde had left. Then he made a promise to himself. He promised that he would find out who the real Draco Malfoy was, no matter how hard it was.

"HARRY POTTER I LOVE YOU!" _Not again, please. _

"Please, make me yours!"

"Be my valentine!" Again, it was _September! _

"Will you defeat my Dark Lord?" What the _hell_ does that mean?

"You're so sexy!" Okay, that one was true. But still creepy.

"Let me be your snitch!"

Harry ran. Again. He really needs to learn how to deal with these kinds of situations. He ran and ran and ran, but he could _still _hear the girls screaming about how much they love him. Honestly, girls are _very _scary.

No wonder he's gay.

He ducked into a conveniently empty classroom and caught his breath. He was getting some good exercise with all this running. They had been back at Hogwarts for two weeks now and he had yet to speak to Malfoy since the train ride. Every day the blonde would go to breakfast with Zabini and Parkinson. He would pick at his food, eat very little, then he would excuse himself and go to an unknown location. He would stay there until classes started, and he did the same for lunch and dinner. All of the eighth year students had their own dorms and a common which they shared, and Malfoy and Zabini roomed together. Harry shared a dorm with Ron. Things were still tense between them, but they were better. Harry, Ron, and Hermione still sat together during meals and they walked to class together, mostly to retain their image of the Golden Trio. Other than that, they stayed away from Harry. And Harry felt more alone than ever. Sure, he still had the others, Neville and Luna and Dean and Seamus, but they were all in relationships while Harry was single.

And yet the only person he is interested in disappears every goddamned day.

Fantastic.

Once Harry had caught his breath and couldn't hear the girls anymore, he stepped cautiously out into the corridor and looked around. Nobody was there. All was silent. Harry let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding and started walking. He didn't know were he was walking to, just walking. He soon found himself in a familiar hall and he kept walking until he was standing in front of a blank wall. He wondered if the room was still there. He paced in front of the wall, until a door revealed itself. He hesitated going inside the door. What would await him if he went in? Charred rubble? Just a brick wall covering the opening? He didn't know, but he went inside anyway, and what he saw surprised him.

Once he stepped inside the Room of Requirement, he heard a violin playing somewhere. There was a hallway with doors on both walls. Each wall had three doors, making six doors in all. Harry walked down the short hall and stopped in front of the door that the music was coming from. The very last door. He had a weird feeling, so he pulled out his handy-dandy invisibility cloak, (which he brought with him everywhere, you never know when you will need to be invisible) put it on, and had his wand in hand.

Today was full of surprises.

When he opened the door, he saw a very familiar blonde playing a violin. He had his eyes closed as he played, so he didn't see the door open. Harry didn't recognize the song Malfoy was playing, but he liked it. Malfoy's face was relaxed, just like it was when he was reading on the train. His face wasn't relaxed when he was in public, and neither was his demeanor. He was always so tense, like he was uncomfortable in his own skin. It was like sixth year all over again, only without the threat of war. Harry closed the door, making sure not to make a sound. He leaned against the wall and listened to Malfoy play.

Malfoy played the violin beautifully.

He put everything he had into the music, Harry could tell Malfoy was sad about something just by the way he played. The melody soft and slow, but powerful in it's dynamics. Crescendos were few and far between, the sound staying a quiet level, never getting too loud. There was so much emotion behind the music that Harry felt like he was intruding on a personal moment and was about to leave when Malfoy opened his eyes. Well now Harry _couldn't_ leave. If he opened the door, Malfoy would know someone was there and would never come back. Not that Harry _wanted_ him to, he just didn't want the blonde to be too cautious to play. And also Harry wanted him to come back. That too.

So Harry stayed.

Malfoy's eyes were clouded over, like he was in a daze. The gray eyes looked more silver in that moment and Harry wished he could tell Malfoy how beautiful his music was, how beautiful _he_ was. But Harry couldn't do that.

He just couldn't.

Not now.

The song ended, but Harry was too busy admiring how beautiful Malfoy was to notice. Malfoy started a new song, this one a little faster than the first. His every move was graceful, how the bow moved across the strings was captivating. Harry didn't even know that was possible, but Draco Malfoy was full of surprises. Malfoy's eyelids were half closed, like he was about to fall asleep. Harry hoped he wasn't. Malfoy closed his eyes again, and Harry could have taken this moment to leave, but he didn't. He was too far gone in the music. Malfoy sniffed once while he played. The second song ended and Malfoy sighed and opened his eyes again. He put the violin and the bow on a table at the back of the room that Harry hadn't noticed was there( he really needed better observation skills, first a bookmark and now a _table_?) and walked out of the room, brushing right past Harry, so close that Harry could smell his cologne and something purely Malfoy. Harry stayed in the room long after Malfoy had gone. He was still in a daze. Malfoy was the only person who could do that to him.

Merlin, help him.

…

The next day, Malfoy was not at breakfast. Nor was he in any of his classes. He wasn't at lunch, or dinner. Harry went down to the Room of Requirement but he wasn't there either. When he asked Zabini, the other boy just gave him a weird look and said he hadn't seen him since that morning. Harry was getting worried.

Very worried.

He checked everywhere, the Great Hall, the Library, the court yard, everywhere. The blonde was nowhere to be found. There was one place he hadn't checked. He was hoping he wouldn't have to look there, but he couldn't find Malfoy anywhere else. That's how he found himself walking to the Hospital wing after dinner.

When he arrived at the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight. He saw a familiar blonde head of hair resting on a pillow. Malfoy's back was towards Harry. He walked over to Malfoy's bed and sat down in a chair that was in the Slytherin's line of sight. Said Slytherin was sleeping. Harry wondered what happened to him. Malfoy, seeming to sense another presence, stirred and opened his eyes. He looked at Harry for a moment, then closed his eyes and sighed.

"Potter," He began in a tired voice, "what are you doing here?"

"Sitting. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You know that's not what I meant." Harry didn't respond. Then,

"What happened?" The olive skinned boy asked.

"That's none of your business."

"I'm making it my business." Malfoy gave him a suspicious look and opened his mouth to answer.

"Mr. Potter! How may I help you?" Madam Pomfrey chose this moment to enter.

"I just wanted to speak with Malfoy, ma'am." She busied her self with a few vials of liquid.

"Well, it's past visiting hours, so you'll have to leave. You may see him tomorrow." Harry shot one last look at Malfoy, nodded his head, and left. Before he exited he heard Madam Pomfrey say,

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, I don't want you walking out on your own that late again. If this happens again, please come and see me. Understood?"

"Yes." Was Malfoy's response. Harry didn't hear the rest of their conversation, as he was too far away. When he reached the eighth year dorms, he retreated to his room and stayed there the rest of the night.

It wasn't like anyone noticed his absence.

…

Harry was walking to breakfast alone the next day when he turned a corner and heard a group of girls talking about him.

"Harry Potter loves me. He told me himself."

"Did not! You liar!"

"He did. Swear."

"Don't listen to her. She's mad."

"You're the one who keeps asking him to be your valentine. It's September!"

Harry turned right back around. He was _not_ willing to go through _that _again.

…

Harry walked back to the Hospital Wing instead of going to breakfast. When he got there, Madam Pomfrey told him that Malfoy had left earlier that morning. Harry silently nodded and left. He didn't think Malfoy was at breakfast, as the blonde was usual gone by that time. So Harry went to the Room of Requirement. When he entered the room, it was the same as the last time. Harry could hear music playing again. He went to the very last door on the left side of the hall. The same door as last time. Harry put on his invisibility cloak again. When he went inside the room, Malfoy's eyes were closed again, like last time, and he looked sad. Malfoy was playing a slow, sad song, the music reflecting his mood. Harry wished the blonde would be happier. He looked so... alone.

Harry felt his heart go out to the boy in front of him.

He took off his cloak.

When Malfoy opened his eyes, the violin made a screeching sound as he jumped in surprise.

"Potter? What are you doing here?"

"Standing. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"No shit, Sherlock." Was that a muggle term?

"You play beautifully." Malfoy gave him that same suspicious look that he used on the train and in the Hospital wing. Speaking of the Hospital wing... "You never told me what happened."

"...Stinging Hexes aren't fun."

"Who did it?"

"I don't know. They got me from behind. Some seventh years, I guess."

"Arseholes." Harry muttered.

"You're right there, Potter."

"Are you okay now?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I just do."

"Why?"

"Will you play again?" Harry asked, nodding his head towards the violin that was still in Malfoy's hands. Malfoy sighed, seeming to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to his question.

"If I do, will you tell me why you wont leave me alone?"

"Sure."

Malfoy raised the violin and rested it in the crook of his neck, right at his collar bone. Then he started playing, and the same relaxed look came over him. The song was slow, as the songs he played often were. Harry felt himself unconsciously take a step towards Malfoy. Then another. And another. And another. Now they were only about a foot apart. Malfoy didn't move away, like Harry expected. Instead, he kept playing with the same intensity that Harry had heard the first time. Malfoy closed his eyes again, and the song became a little more happy, although it was still slow and soft. Malfoy had a small smile on his face as he played, and Harry couldn't help but mirror the smile on his own face. When the song was over, Malfoy opened his eyes.

"I like that one." Harry said quietly. Draco hummed lightly in response. _Since when is he Draco? _Harry asked himself. Since five seconds ago. Harry didn't care though, he liked Draco better than Malfoy, anyway.

"Answer my question." Draco said. "Why wont you leave me alone?" A piece of hair had fallen into Draco's face as he played, and Harry was _so_ tempted to brush it away.

"I don't know. You just seem so sad all the time. I guess I want to know why."

"I'm not sad, Potter."

"Then what are you? You look sad to me."

"I don't even know anymore." That broke Harry's heart. They had more in common than he thought.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I still am. I know how you feel. Like nobody cares." Draco looked at him. It was a weird look, one Harry couldn't decipher. "But I do. I care." Draco was still looking at him with that same look. Then, he turned away and put the violin back on the table. He had his back towards Harry.

"Why?" Draco asked in a shaky voice.

"Why not?" Draco's shoulders started trembling. Harry walked forward and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry turned Draco around and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling the blonde closer to him. Draco returned the embrace, burying his face into the crook of Harry neck. They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each others arms. When Harry pulled back and looked into Draco's glassy eyes, there was something there. Something different. It looked like the look Ron and Hermione gave each other every time they saw the other. It looked like something Harry hadn't had in a long time.

Love.

It looked like love.

Draco Malfoy loves him.

And Harry loves him back.

When Harry lent forward, Draco met him halfway, their lips coming together and sending sparks of electricity all through Harry.

Draco kisses a lot like how he plays the violin. Soft and slow and with everything he had, never getting too rough, and with so much emotion. Harry threaded his hands through Draco's blonde hair that was, in fact, as soft as it looked. When they parted, Harry hardly had only enough time to take a breath before his lips were being ravished again. Draco's hands were on Harry's hips, pulling the Gryffindor impossibly closer. Harry lost all coherent thought when Draco's tongue slid inside his mouth.

When they parted again, Harry said,

"We have class."

"Does it look like I give a damn?" Harry laughed and Draco smiled. He actually_ smiled. _

"Do you just want to stay here the rest of the day?"

"That's what I was hoping for, yes."

Harry kissed him again.

He didn't feel so alone anymore.


End file.
